Breaking the Rules
by GossipGirlHere
Summary: After the Fischer job Arthur and Ariadne get off of the plane in LA prepared to pretend to be strangers. They can't do anything else with the no-contact rule in place. Unless, Arthur plans to act on his impulses, which would involve breaking the rules.


**So, after seeing _Inception_ again I knew that I just had to do a fic on Arthur and Ariadne because I think they're such an amazing couple. Then, of course, I had to include Eames, because everyone knows things are just _so_ much funnier with him around, and this fic was born. It starts right when they wake up from the Fischer job. It's just a one-shot, but it's pretty long. It's all in third person, but I tend to be telling it from one person's point of view most of the time. It starts with Ariadne's thoughts, then moves to Arthur after the line, and it's pretty easy to follow where the third person is coming from. If that made any sense, then good, but if it didn't than just ignore it. Enjoy!**

Her eyes snapped open, her breath uneven, her heart racing as she reached into her pocket for her totem. She pulled out the pawn and set it shakily on the palm of her left hand and flicked it. She felt the cool metal hit her skin and a wave of relief swept over her. She was not dreaming, she really _had_ made it out of limbo and back to reality.

The thought of limbo brought her mind to Cobb, and she whipped her head around to look at his seat, which was directly across from hers, praying that she would see him awake. She couldn't see at first, the flight attendant was offering her a warm towel and handing out immigration forms. She took one of each, but paid them no mind as the stewardess moved on and her view of Cobb became unobstructed. He was there, his eyes open, and taking an immigration form from the stewardess. She smiled at him and the look of pure disbelief on his face, before she leaned forward and watched as Saito took the phone off of his armrest and dialed. She smiled wider.

She couldn't help but turn around to look behind her. Eames, who was sitting behind Cobb, was smirking in his usual, self-satisfied way, and Arthur was just…Arthur. He was smiling secretively at Cobb as he filled out his immigration form, and Ariadne couldn't help but smile too. It was just so Arthur.

They left the plane and made it through customs with no trouble at all, and as they moved into baggage claim they separated from eachother with no acknowledgment save for a secretive smile or a knowing glance. It was standard procedure that they all pretend not to know eachother, and to avoid contact, at least for a few days. She knew where Cobb was headed. Home. She was more happy for him than she could say, and her happiness for him overshadowed the small bit of guilt she felt for planting a possibly hurtful idea into Fischer's mind.

They all claimed their luggage, and Saito was the first to leave. He left with only a nod to her. However, he smiled at Cobb, who was nearly sprinting, having grabbed his bag the moment he saw it. Cobb smiled back, but only fleetingly. His eyes were hungry, and he looked, to Ariadne at least, like a man who had just been released from prison after the police had caught the person who had actually committed the crime. It wasn't a totally inaccurate notion.

Yusuf left after Cobb, sending a warm, friendly smile to her as he left, but nothing that would look _too_ out of the ordinary. Eames left next with a wink to her that made it look like he was trying to pick her up. It was _so_ him. It was just her and Arthur now waiting for their bags next to eachother, pretending to be strangers who just happened to be on the same plane. She wanted to say something, but knew full well that she couldn't. They would all contact eachother in a week to look for another job. Cobb was, of course, out of the business for now, but he promised to contact them all if he ever planned on reentering it. However, she, Eames, Yusuf, and Arthur were all adamant about working as a team from now on, and planned on taking most if not all jobs together. The idea comforted Ariadne, because she had no idea how to slip back into normal life after everything she'd experienced in the dream world. She wasn't totally sure it was even possible.

She saw Arthur's bag come up and her's just behind it, but before she could reach for it, he swept them both off of the carousel without a word and sent her a smile. As he handed her her bag their hands touched, and a slip of paper moved from his hand to hers. She smiled at him, but otherwise gave no sign that anything had passed between them except an anonymous act of chivalry performed by an absolute stranger.

They walked out side by side and made it to the front of the airport together. He held open the door to the first cab waiting out front, wearing his signature smirk, and she got in it. She gave the driver the name of the hotel she was staying at, and then looked out the window to see Arthur getting in a cab behind her. She watched him hungrily, his hair slicked back as usual, wearing his signature three piece suit. He looked totally put together, as always, and was still wearing his smirk.

She smiled as she opened the small piece of paper that he'd left in her hand.

_Hotel Casa del Mar, room 528_

_Just in case you need someone to talk to, the first job can be tough._

_If not, see you in a week. I'll be in touch then, Eames and Yusuf in tow.  
_

_A._

Her smile stretched wider as she traced the writing on the note. It was angular, neat, small, but not cramped, and totally familiar. She absentmindedly reached into her pocket and stroked her totem, to make sure this was all real. She didn't see why she would need help, but she was glad that he had offered. She liked to think that he cared. She couldn't help but notice that her heart rate had gone up as she read the note, and that the butterflies that sometimes inhabited her stomach when he was around were back.

She knew it was a stupid type of crush. After all, she was 23 and barely out of school (she'd finished during the three months that they'd worked on the job), and he was 27, intelligent, put together, witty, in his own way, collected, and most likely totally uninterested in her. She liked to think that he cared if she was okay, though she knew he would say it was all part of his job, she wanted to believe it was something more. After all, he was breaking a key rule by contacting her.

She had fallen for the point-man, and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd been falling for him ever since they started the job, but the kiss on the second dream level had sealed her fate. She knew he probably just did it because he thought it would distract the projections, though some part of her thought that he would never be stupid enough to think that. Still, it was even more stupid to think that it was anything more than an adrenaline rush. What else could it be?

She slumped against the seat of the cab and looked out the window, trying and failing to keep her mind off of a certain three-piece designer suit wearing, devilishly handsome point-man.

* * *

He knew it was extremely irresponsible to initiate contact with her before the one week period was up. They'd all agreed that they would get together after a week, so couldn't he have waited seven days? No, he really couldn't have.

He was able to assuage some of his guilt with the thought that she _would_ probably need someone to talk to after her first job, because, frankly, the line between dreams and reality is never more blurred, and sometimes a totem isn't enough. Not only that, most people after their first job are, naturally, exhausted (it's not until a person has had more experience that their body accepts the shared-dreaming sleep as real rejuvenatory sleep), but usually their sleep isn't nightmare free, and normally they aren't just regular nightmares.

When his cab reached the hotel he took out his luggage, paid the cab driver, and got out, heading to the check-in counter, and then to his room. He, Ariande, Eames, and Yusuf had all arranged to stay in different places (each without telling the others where he or she would be) for a week, at which point they would meet with Eames at a set location to discuss a job offer that he was currently researching.

He showered and changed before settling down in a chair and pulling out a book. It seemed anti-climactic, after everything they'd achieved, to just put on another designer three-piece suit, and sit down with some coffee and a book, but there really wasn't anything else he could do. He wasn't tired (he, unlike Ariadne, was at the stage where he got enough sleep during dream-sharing that he rarely needed to sleep more after a big job like this), and he was unable to contact the rest of the team for another week (though he'd already broken _that_ rule), and he had no real family left anymore, which was part of the reason he got into this business. He always stuck with Cobb, but between the more dangerous and illegal jobs, the ones after which they were all forced to split up for a while, there wasn't ever much for him to do.

He watched time tick by and hoped, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Ariadne _would_ come to see him. He felt extremely stupid for being interested in her, because he really had no right to be. She was four years younger than him, for a start, and so outgoing and free, so creative and energetic and lively, and what was he? He was the well-dressed, straight-lined, rule-following point-man, though, as of late, rule-following didn't seem to apply as much. He knew that she would never be interested in him, but he couldn't help being fascinated and captivated by her. He kept a cool facade and hid behind smirks in order to keep anyone from discovering how he felt, but it wasn't always easy.

Classic example: the second dream level. He wanted to smack himself for that, he really did. What had he been thinking? Oh yeah, that if they died and went to limbo he wanted to have kissed her, at least once. How pathetic...Of course, it had been wonderful, but also extremely wrong. He really hoped it hadn't ruined everything, because he knew it would be more than awkward to work together if she chose to ever bring it up. He hoped she wouldn't. She had the decency not to, but she also had the curiosity that would make her want to know why he'd done it.

He was absorbed in his thoughts, his book long forgotten, and flipping his die over and over again into his hand, watching as the single, solitary dot came up on top every time.

* * *

She was on the second level of Fischer's subconscious again, with the projections closing in on her and Arthur from all sides. They were going to kill them both, and then they would go to limbo, where they had no chance of escaping. The projections were advancing, all armed with guns, but she and Arthur had none.

Arthur was holding onto her wrist, not so tight as to make it uncomfortable, but tight enough that she felt reassured. He wasn't going anywhere if he could help it. She could see the wheels in his brain turning behind his eyes as he calculated the best way to get them out of the situation.

The projections were upon them. They shot Arthur, first in the foot and then in the arm. He screamed in pain, releasing her wrist as he held his injuries, the blood seeping out of him, his face stretched in agony. They shot him and she watched the light leave his eyes.

"No!" she screamed, but no one was there to hear her. "Arthur!" she knelt beside him as the projections closed in on them. His eyes were empty. She heard a gun shot not even a millisecond before everything went black.

She woke up with a start, sitting straight up in bed, drenched in sweat and panting. She reached over to her bedside table where the pawn was standing and tipped it. It fell, just as it should have, and she sighed, but the sight of the totem alone was not enough to stop her shaking. The dream had been so vivid, so real, and she had had no way to know if it was reality or not.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked slowly back and forth, letting her eyes become accustomed to the darkness and taking in the sight of her hotel room as conformation that Arthur was not, in fact, dead or stuck in limbo. She wondered why everyone warned her so much about how hard it was when dreaming became impossible, and about how soon she'd dream very little or not at all and how it was a very difficult thing to accept and get used to. If _this_ was an example of a typical post-job dream, then she never wanted to dream again.

Part of her mind was still battling the idea that it hadn't been a dream. But, the rational part of her said, of _course_ it was just a dream. She'd seen Arthur only hours ago. He'd given her his hotel and room number in case she needed him. There was absolutely no need to worry about him, none at all.

She couldn't really believe that though. She took her totem and held it tightly. She then took the slip of paper he'd given her off the bedside table, where it had sat next to her pawn, and read it again, taking comfort in the familiar handwriting and battling the urge to see him that was welling up inside her. She looked at the digital clock on the table. It was 3:04 AM. Arthur was probably asleep like any normal, _sane_ person would be. But, he did say she could go to him if she needed someone to talk to...

* * *

A knock on the door, slightly hesitant, but a knock nonetheless, awoke Arthur from his thoughts. He grinned, actually beaming as he stood up. Only one person knew where he was and would call on him at 3:30 AM. Ariadne. He walked to the door, and tried desperately to wipe part of the smile he was wearing off of his face before he opened it. He didn't want to be _too_ obvious. However, as he opened the door, the smile was wiped off of his face of its own accord and was replaced with a look of concern as he saw her.

She was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, that she'd apparently just thrown on, but it wasn't her clothing that worried him. She was shaking slightly, and she had deep circles under her eyes, which were puffy. She looked him up and down, and gave a sigh of what sounded like relief, but did not stop shaking. He could see sweat along her brow and behind her eyes there was a haunted look.

He was suddenly very glad that he'd told her where he was. The first couple nights after a job were rough on everyone, but she was taking it particularly badly.

"Ariadne, are you okay?" he asked, standing back to let her inside. She seemed nervous.

"I'm sorry to come so late, but-"

"It's okay," he said, gesturing towards the table where his book and empty coffee cup lay, along with his totem, "I was up anyway. At this point, after a long job like that, I've had enough sleep that I'll be up until late tomorrow night."

"Oh." She didn't seem to know what to say. She cast a look around the hotel room, wringing her hands ever so slightly, before she turned back to him and said, "Well, anyway, I just-I had to see you, I guess. Make sure everything was..."

She trailed off, not seeming to know how to articulate her thoughts. Arthur saw her fumbling around in her pocket, clutching an object that he was sure was her totem.

"Real?" he offered, "I get it. That's why I wanted to make sure you knew where I was. Have you slept at all? You look exhausted."

"I did," she said, sitting down on the couch, where he joined her, "But that's just the problem."

"Ah," he said, comprehending just what had happened, "And now your dreams are too similar to shared dreams? The line between dream and reality is starting to blur, isn't it?"

"Exactly," she said quietly with a nod, looking at him in wonder, as if she hadn't expected him to understand.

She yawned, and he eyed her up and down. She really did look exhausted. He knew she needed sleep, but he also knew that with sleep would come the nightmares, at least at first. He wanted to ask what she had dreamed, he was terribly curious about what could make her so afraid, but he didn't want to overstep boundaries, so he merely said, "You really should get some sleep. You can stay here, if you want. I won't be sleeping any time soon."

She looked down and bit her lip, as if considering the idea. He would've given anything to know what she was thinking. She nodded and said, "Yeah. I mean, if I'm gonna have nightmares at least I can be near someone useful."

He smiled, and she smiled back, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

* * *

When Ariadne awoke it took her a moment before she could identify her surroundings, and in that moment her first and only coherent thought was that surely, if she didn't recognize where she was and she had no recollection of how she got there, she must be in someone else's dream. She clutched her totem, set it in the palm of her hand, and tipped it.

"You're not dreaming," came Arthur's voice from the doorway, "Don't worry."

She remembered suddenly where she was, but was then surprised again, and said, "I didn't dream."

"Is that a complaint?" he asked, sitting down in a chair by the doorway.

"No," she said, "Just surprising. I mean, I had terrible nightmares earlier."

Arthur shrugged, but Ariadne had an idea as to why she hadn't dreamed. Her nightmare had been about her and Arthur in danger, but if Arthur was there with her than maybe her subconscious decided to give her a break because it knew he was right there. She wasn't sure how or if she would articulate this when her stomach growled. "What time is it?" she asked, looking around for a clock.

"About 8:00," he said casually, "Hungry?"

"Starving," she replied, standing up. He led the way out of the bedroom and into the living room/kitchen complex.

"We could just order room service," he said, "If you don't want to go out. Besides," he said, looking a little embarrassed, she wondered exactly why he looked that way, but did not ask, "I'm not really supposed to be with you at all, so I figured that we'd lie low. I-I mean," he looked even more nervous, "Until you're okay."

She nodded, and took the menu that he had plucked from the kitchen table. As she looked around the hotel suite again she couldn't help but smile. It was very high end, and she couldn't help but snicker a little because it was _so_ Arthur to get a multi-room hotel suite at one of the best hotels in LA simply for a week of lying low. He looked very at home in his designer suit and sleeked-back hair style along with his several-hundred dollar watch. Before she'd gotten an idea of how much she'd get for the Saito job she'd wondered how Arthur could afford to dress and act the way he did, but she soon realized that illegal activity paid well..._very_ well.

They sat eating breakfast, both ignoring what Ariadne considered to be the elephant in the room, or maybe it only appeared that way to her because she was so worried about it. She couldn't stay here, that much seemed obvious. If the rest of the crew found out that they'd broken the week rule they'd both be in some pretty serious trouble, but she didn't want to be alone, but she also didn't want to admit that. She still felt slightly embarrassed about having turned up at 3:30 AM, but he didn't seem bothered by it at all.

She knew this time was a better time than any for her to ask him what she'd wanted to ask him since it happened. Had he really believed that the kiss would distract the projections on the second dream level, and if he hadn't then why did he do it? She wasn't sure how to ask this question without things becoming awkward though. Maybe it was best to ignore the whole thing, but she wasn't sure if she could work with him all the time and _not_ know. But, if he didn't feel the same way about her as she did about him, and in her mind it seemed fairly certain that he _didn't_, then it would be horribly awkward to work together after that, and she never wanted to stop working with him, ever. Even if he didn't feel the same way, he was magnetic, his presence like a drug to equal shared dreaming, which was saying a lot.

After breakfast she stood up and said, "I should probably get back. The one week rule, you know..."

"Well, we've already broken that," he pointed out. Did that mean he wanted her to stay? She hoped it did.

"I do have one question," she said, pausing for approval. He didn't say anything, only gave a smirk which she took as an assent to continue, "When you-When we were on the second level of Fischer's dream," she paused to gauge his reaction to her words. His face, which had been so light and open with her throughout the morning, was the cool, calm, collected mask that he wore when he didn't want to show any emotion, and, as usual, it worked. She could read nothing in his face. Only in his eyes could she see an intensity that even his coolness could not mask. However, she had no way of interpreting it, so she continued. "You kissed me to distract the projections."

She paused again, longer this time. "That's not a question," he said, his face still a mask of calm, though she thought she saw a bit of a blush coloring his cheeks, and the intensity behind his deep brown eyes grew stronger.

"I was just wondering," she said, "If you really thought that it would distract the projections, and if you didn't," she took a deep, steadying breath, "I was wondering why you did it."

Arthur took a deep breath. She hoped she hadn't ruined everything in the course of a single sentence, because that was what it was looking like to her. She could see him resolving something behind his eyes, the only place where, even behind the calm mask he so often wore, she could always find him.

He took a step nearer to where she was standing by the door, and said quietly, "You really want to know the truth?"

She nodded.

He bridged the gap between them and kissed her again, but it was different than the first kiss. This was _real_. His one hand found her waist while the other found the back of her neck. Her one hand was at his cheek, feeling the smoothness there, while the other was at his arm.

He broke apart after only a moment and said, "_That's_ why, Ariadne. That's why I kissed you in the dream." She raised her eyebrow, confused, so he elaborated, "You make me do spontaneous things like that just to get your attention, so that I have even a small hope of you liking me the way I like you. You know me, you know that I have a plan for _everything_, but there can never be a plan with you, because every time I think I've figured you out you change the maze and I'm back where I'm started. You're always surprising me, and I guess that in Fischer's dream level, it was-"

But she cut off his ramble with another kiss. She broke away after a minute or so and said, "Listen, I'm gonna go change, but I'll meet you somewhere, how about-"

"There's a park a few blocks from your hotel, I'll meet you there."

She was halfway out the door when she realized something. "Wait!" she said. He raised an eyebrow at her and smirked his smirk. "How did you know what hotel I'm staying at? None of us is supposed to know where anyone else is!"

"Just because I'm not _supposed _to know doesn't mean I don't," he replied, still smirking, "See you in an hour."

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe his luck as he walked down the streets of LA, heading for the park by Ariadne's hotel. He was tossing his die into his palm as he walked, watching again and again as the solitary dot came up on top, but still barely believing it each time.

Of course, he knew that they hadn't really settled much of anything, but the fact that she liked him too was a huge relief. He still felt slightly guilty for breaking the no-contact rule, especially now that they were going to be out in public, but it wasn't as if he was going to just run into Eames or Yusuf at the park. They'd probably never know, and it was more important to him that she be okay, and she'd really been shaken up the night before. He wanted, now more than ever, to know what she'd dreamed, but he didn't want to be insensitive, so he wasn't sure how or if he would broach the subject.

He waited by the entrance of the park for maybe five minutes when he saw her walking towards him, looking much more like herself than she had before. She was wearing jeans and a simple shirt with her trademark scarf wrapped around her neck and her usual bangles jingling on her wrists.

She walked straight up to him and gave him a quick kiss, to which he couldn't help but smirk. He took her hand and they walked together into the park.

"I see you're back to normal," he said with a smile, still looking her up and down as they walked.

"Yep," she said, "And you've found yet another designer three-piece suit to change into," she tugged at the bottom of his vest with her free hand.

He shrugged. He had to admit that they must have looked like an odd couple.

Spurred by this thought he asked, "So, what are we going to do about work?"

"Well, Eames is looking for a job for us, isn't he, so-" she broke off, as if the meaning of his sentence had finally reached her. "Oh, you mean about this," she pulled her hand up bringing his along with it. He nodded. "Well, Eames will certainly have a laugh, but after that I don't think it will matter too much..." she hedged, still looking at him, as if seeking his approval for that plan.

"I agree."

She gave the same small, secretive smile that she gave after he kissed her for the first time, but said nothing as they continued walking.

They walked in silence for a while, but it was a comfortable silence, and Arthur did not feel compelled to break it. He just enjoyed the feeling of walking beside her with her hand in his, knowing they had nothing to worry about for another week. Suddenly the time seemed too short. Of course, he knew that soon he would need another job, because dream-sharing, the creativeness the exhilaration of it all, was an addiction to rival his addiction to her, but for now he was content just to walk in the park.

After a while he decided to ask the question that had bubbled to his lips several times. He figured that they might as well be open with eachother from the get-go, and this was a good place to start. "Ariadne?" he asked, quietly.

"Yeah?" She turned to look at him inquisitorially.

"Last night," he began, but he stopped when he saw something like worry emerge behind her eyes. However, she nodded at him to continue, so he did, "When you came to see me, what had you dreamed about? You were so worried..." he trailed of, gauging her reaction to the question.

She looked slightly embarrassed, and was biting her lip. She took her totem, the gold pawn, out of her pocket with her other hand and began fiddling with it.

"It's a little embarrassing," she started, and when he said nothing she continued, "I dreamed that we were back, back in Fischer's subconscious, I mean, and we were on the second dream level..." Arthur watched her closely as she continued. The haunted look was back behind her eyes, "And the projections were closing in on us, on you and me, and they," she took a deep breath before continuing in nothing more than a whisper, "They shot you, twice, before they finally killed you. I tried to bring you back, I-I didn't want you to go into limbo...and they shot me."

Arthur paused, looking at her in horror as his brain digested the dream. Of course, part of him, the selfish part, couldn't help but be elated at the idea that the thought that had truly terrified her had been something bad happening to him. He pushed that aside though, and turned to her and said, "Those dreams aren't real, not even in the way that shared dreams are. Those dreams are the harmless kind. You can't let things like that get to you."

He tried to speak calmly, coolly, and rationally in order to get her to see that nothing about those dreams would ever be real.

"I know," she said, "But-"

He broke her off with a kiss.

* * *

They stood in the park, kissing in the middle of the sidewalk, and when they broke away he said, "Ariadne, I'm _real_." She couldn't help but relish the words, along with the feeling of his arms around her waist protectively. He felt so solid, so _real_, that she actually believed him. How could she not believe him? He was Arthur, Arthur who always knew the answers, Arthur who always took care of every detail, Arthur, who always watched out for her. He was Arthur, just Arthur.

"And so am I, darling" came a smug voice from behind them in a sickeningly familiar British accent. They both whipped around, Arthur pulling his hands out from around her waist and Ariadne dropping her arms from around his neck, and found themselves face to face with Eames, who was wearing a satisfied smirk, "Though, now you may be wishing you _were _dreaming."

Arthur clenched his jaw. Ariadne could tell from his face that this was one of those moments where Arthur really _hated_ Eames. She wasn't very fond of him at the moment either.

"How long have you been here?" she asked accusatory. Eavesdropping wasn't an appealing habit in her opinion.

"Now, now, Ariadne, there's no reason to get cross with _me_. _I'm _not the one who broke the no-contact rule less than twenty-four hours after a job. Tut, tut...Really Arthur I always took you as such a rule-follower." He shook his head in a mock-sad way, but couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"You still haven't answered," said Arthur, his jaw still clenched. Ariadne saw it again. The mask. Arthur was one of those people who always came across as cool, calm, and collected, and Ariadne could always tell when the mask was on, because when it was he communicated through smirks and a few short sentences, and the only place she could find him was behind his eyes. Of course, he was always sincere, always calm, always smooth, but he became more introverted when the mask, which was how she thought of it, came back, and now that Eames had burst in on their private moment the mask was on once more. Even though the mask sometimes frustrated her, and it definitely did when they first met, she had grown to appreciate it because it was part of him. He would always, with the mask on or off, be the calm, smooth, collected, charming man that he was, but she enjoyed that when the mask came off it meant that he trusted who he was with completely. He hardly wore the mask in front of her anymore, and even with it on in front of others, she could always could find him in his eyes.

"Oh," said Eames casually, twirling a poker chip between his fingers. Ariadne wondered if it was his totem. "Only a few minutes. Long enough to see this rather inappropriate display of affection right in the middle of a park. I guess the no-contact rule doesn't apply to our frisky little architect and her dashing young point-man, now does it?"

Ariadne could see that Eames was enjoying their discomfort, and it made her rather angry. "Well, you're breaking the rule now too aren't you?"

"Me?" he asked, looking taken aback and putting on an insulted face, though Ariadne knew it was for show, "I'm hurt to hear you say such a thing! I was merely taking a stroll in the park when I saw two of my crew members in a rather compromising position."

"Except now you've made it obvious that you know us," said Ariadne, raising her eyebrows.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "You two already blew our cover as it is."

"Shouldn't you be researching the next job?" said Arthur, who seemed to think that Eames had had enough time to taunt them.

"Now why should you get to have all the fun? And it just so happens, Arthur, that I take care of business before pleasure, unlike _some_ people," Arthur scowled, while Eames continued, "I happen to have secured the job for us. I _had_ planned on contacting you both, separately," he added with a smirk, "Next week, but it seems that that will no longer be necessary. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, brushing past them with a smirk, "I think I'll pay Yusuf a little visit, and we'll both meet you at that coffee shop over there in an hour," he said, pointing to the shop in question, "That should give you both _plenty_ of time to...finish up."

He finished with a smirk and mock-bow, and began heading up the path when Ariadne called after him, "And just how do you know where Yusuf is?"

"Darling, you and Arthur aren't the only ones who enjoy breaking the rules..."

**I hope you liked that! I've never written an _Inception_ fic before, so be nice and leave me a review to tell me how it was.**

**XOXO**

**GossipGirlHere  
**


End file.
